Unexpected Saviour
by KatHarkness-Katara
Summary: It's all gone wrong, and Red Robin might not have long to live...Rated for description of injuries.


**Unexpected Saviour**

The raid had started out well.

It just ended badly.

By the time Red Robin staggered out the warehouse upper window, smugglers lying unconscious below and cops on their way, he'd picked up nearly a dozen bullets, several cracked ribs, a few gashes and probably some internal injuries. All he wanted was to haul himself back to the cave, get Alfred to patch him up and go to sleep. He pulled his grapple from his belt with trembling fingers, fired it and jumped.

Three jumps later, he lost his grip, falling three stories to land in a crumpled heap on the pavement.

His skull banged against the paving stones. His hip crunched as his weight fell on it. His shoulder cracked.

Hissing, he tried to push himself up, but stars spun in his eyes and he collapsed back down. He tried to tap his comm, only to find the tiny earpiece shattered. Whimpering, he gave up, hoping someone would find him.

Ten minutes later, a cop car passed. It slowed, and Red Robin could just see the driver looking at him, before speeding off.

Twenty minutes after that, a security guard came by. He walked over, looking down at the teen's broken form, chest heaving with shuddering, painful breaths. Red Robin looked up at him, voiceless pleading for aid, only to see him shake his head briefly, and leave.

Half an hour passed. An hour. Two. Red Robin had almost given up, hoping against all reason that someone would notice his absence and look for him, rather than chalking it up to his tendency to get absorbed in cases. Fighting to stay conscious, he felt his strength slipping away into the frigid winter air, the cold permeating his suit. Closing his eyes, he prayed for deliverance to the God he never really believed in.

Footsteps. Familiar ones, though he was in no condition to identify them. He tried to muster strength to open his eyes, but couldn't seem to find the reserves.

"Huh. Thought I saw blood 'round here somewhere."

Red Robin cracked his eyelid open, peering at the person standing over him. "Harley?" he breathed, scarcely able to say even that much.

"You know, Mistah Jay would tell me tah jus' shoot you, put you outta your misery." The crazy clown girl pulled a pistol seemingly from nowhere, pointing it square at Red Robin's cranium. He closed his eyes, knowing he was completely helpless, completely at her mercy. He waited for the crack that would be the last thing he'd ever hear.

"But, what the hell. Can't jus' kill you like this. Nah. Even I'm not that cold." Red Robin felt hands running over his body, skirting around the bullet holes and knife cuts, pressing lightly on his broken ribs, hip and shoulder. "Little bird all broken," she whispered. "Bat-brain gonna be down one kid. Bet that'll hit him hard. He really won't be happy."

A pause. Fingers ran through his hair, briefly touching the mask, but leaving it be. Red Robin opened his eye again, looking at Harley's pensive expression, waiting for her to leave him to die. "Please," he croaked, not sure whether he was asking her to help him, or get help, or finish him off quick, or even just not leave him alone. He didn't expect her to do anything for him.

Instead she gently removed her coat and wrapped it round his shoulders. "Jus' a kid, birdie. Could never stand for kids dyin'. Can't just stand here, you know?" She vanished, reappearing scare moments later. Kneeling down next to him, she wiped blood from the bullet wounds, plugging them with cotton wool. She wrapped bandages around his knife wounds and broken bones, before standing, and pulling him partially onto her shoulder. "Hold on a mo, 'kay?" she asked him, pulling him down the street. "Car's right over here."

She opened the door to a shiny red convertible, laying him down across the back seats. She slid into the driver's seat, and Red Robin was aware of her driving, slow and cautious, for maybe fifteen minutes before stopping. She picked him up again, and led him into an apartment block, up to the third floor, and into an apartment. She took him into the bedroom, and laid him down on the bed.

"I think there's some soup in the kitchen. Can't do much with those wounds, but let's get some food in you 'fore we go looking for Bat-brain," Harley said. She ruffled his hair before leaving the room. Red Robin could hear the rattling of a saucepan, and soon enough Harley was back, carrying a thermos flask with a straw stuck in it. She put the straw to the injured teen's lips, and he sucked gratefully, feeling the hot tomato soup fill and warm him.

"Thank you," he whispered, not just for the soup, but for bringing him out of the cold, doing what she could for his injuries, and not even trying to get his mask off.

"You need it, birdie," she shrugged. "Where d' you reckon Bat-brain might be?"

Red Robin frowned, trying to remember anything Batman said. "Crime Alley?" he suggested. "Somewhere near there."

"Sure." Harley pulled out two zip-ties, and fastened his wrists to the sides of the bed frame. He whimpered involuntarily at the restraints, tugging gently and futilely. "Don' get up," she told him. "You'll jus' hurt yourself worse."

He watched, eyes wide, as she left. Closing his eyes again, he wondered what could possibly be happening. As he felt himself drifting off the sleep, he faintly remembered the desperate prayer, and wondered if maybe there was a God after all.

He woke to an achingly familiar tread. "Red Robin?" Batman growled, gentle and concerned.

"B," he whispered back.

"Tol' yah he was here, didn't I?" Harley said from slightly further away.

"Tied down?" Batman growled, unimpressed.

"Hey, would you want him gettin' up in that condition, or trust him to stay put?"

Batman grunted. "Did she injure you, Red Robin?"

"Hey!"

Red Robin quivered his head left and right, as a batarang cut the ties on his wrists. "_Saved_ me," he murmured as his surrogate father gathered him in his arms.

Batman turned, looking at Harley. "Then I owe you his life, Miss Quinn," he said. "Be good."

**AN: Kudos if you recognize the inspiration. Un-beta'd, so possible spelling/grammar, plus I tried to show Harley's accent and I'm not sure how successful I was.**


End file.
